


Where the Butterflies Went

by konstay0629



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: A WHOLE LOT OF PINING, A little angst, Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Exes, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Getting Back Together, It's just fluffy pining lol, M/M, POV Alternating, Pining, Rated Teen for some swearing, SO MUCH FLUFF, Summer Vacation, You won't even feel the angst here, in this house we only write happy endings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:53:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25839895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/konstay0629/pseuds/konstay0629
Summary: Minho only wanted to spend the summer with his grandmother to make her happy. He never meant to lie to her. And he definitely never planned to invite over his ex-boyfriend and have him pretend that they're still together.It was the biggest mistake he's ever made yet... or so he thought.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 38
Kudos: 339
Collections: MINSUNG BINGO: Round One





	Where the Butterflies Went

**Author's Note:**

> ♡ Hi! I am here to add another story into the minsung exes fake/pretend relationship tags!   
>  ♡ This is an entry for [minsung bingo](https://twitter.com/minsungbingo) for the fills: exes, summer vacation, fake/pretend relationship   
>  ♡ This story is close to my heart because I was thinking of my grandma while writing this, so I hope you like it.    
>  ♡ Not a native English speaker btw, so I'm sorry if this has some grammatical errors. I tried to proofread as best as I could.   
> 

It was half past noon when Minho stepped off the bus that took him to his grandmother’s hometown. 

The summer sun was blazing at its peak and beating down on his baseball hat. He could practically feel the heat waves emanating from his head and it’s making him slightly dizzy, so he walked to one of the shaded benches to take a rest, taking off his cap to run his fingers through his flattened hair.

He took his time to look around, breathing in the familiar scent of freshly baked pastries from the old bakery nearby. The last time he’s been to this place, everything was different.

Well, not exactly everything.

The buildings, the roads, the street signs, and the houses – they’re all still the same. But back then, everything was covered in a blanket of snow and he didn’t feel like passing out from the sweltering heat.

Back then, the six-hour ride didn’t feel like hell. Because back then, he wasn’t alone.

But the memories from  _ back then _ are not something he wants to mull over now. Not when they’re threatening to choke him up with emotions.

Not when he’s only a few minutes away from his grandmother’s house and the short walk won’t be enough to let him regain his composure.

He took a deep breath, pushed the sad thoughts to the back of his mind and put on a neutral facade because he’s not here to mope. He’s here because his grandmother missed him and asked him to spend the summer with her. And the last thing he wants is to make her sad by being sad himself.

Not even ten minutes since he left the bus terminal and he could already see the dark green hedges dotted with small, delicate white flowers that surround the front yard of his grandma’s house.

The bright blue-painted wooden paneling of the house is now faded to almost white. Vines from under the windowsill are trailing the edges of the large window prettily. The sight gave him the kind of nostalgic feeling that squeezes at your heart as the memories of all the summers – and that one winter – he spent here flitted through his mind.

He leisurely walked over the gravel path that leads to the front door, listening to the familiar crunching of stone under his feet.

The doorbell gave off a melodic tinkling when he rang it. He noticed that it’s now surrounded with doodles of flowers with tiny petals, and he couldn’t help but smile at the thought of his grandma focusing on drawing them on the wall.

“Grandma?” He called out, trying to peek through the frosted glass panel on the door to see if she’s coming. After a minute or two, he heard slow but steady steps growing nearer at the other side of the door. Then the handle clicked open and the next thing he knew, he’s engulfed in his grandma’s tight hug.

“Minho, my dear grandson!” She said fondly before pulling back to hold him at arm’s length, cupping his face tenderly with both hands. “Look how much you’ve grown!”

Minho chuckled at her as he reached out again for another quick hug before looping an arm around her shoulder and leading her inside. “Gran, we just saw each other last winter.” He quipped as they walked to the kitchen where he placed the boxes of lemons that he brought with him before sitting on one of the stools by the countertop.

The sound of his grandmother’s laughter rang throughout the kitchen. It’s similar to his — carefree, only hers has a certain kind of rasping that comes with old age.

“I know, dear. But you’ve lost a lot of weight since I last saw you!” She said as her wrinkled hands fumbled over his cheeks, poking at his cheekbones. “Look at these cheekbones! Oh my, have you been eating well?”

“Yes, gran. You don’t have to worry.” Minho said as playfully batted her hands away. “I’m sure you’ll fatten me up with all the food here anyway.” His grandmother pretended not to hear him, but from the small smile on her face he can tell that she’s totally guilty of overfeeding him every time he visits. “How about you? How have you been?”

“Healthy as a horse! You know our dear Hyunjinnie takes very good care of me. I am sure he’ll drop by later in the afternoon to see you. He knows you’re spending the summer here.”

Hyunjin is Minho’s cousin who lives a few blocks away from his grandma’s home. Minho’s parents used to live with his grandma, but they had to move out a few years before he was born when his dad got a job in a bigger city. They were only able to visit during holidays and long school breaks, so his aunt and uncle, and eventually Hyunjin, takes care of their grandmother now.

His grandma gave him a reassuring smile as she shuffled around the kitchen counter to make tea. Minho watched her wrinkled hands as she sliced one of the lemons he brought and squeezed some of the juice into the cups. 

Despite her old age, she’s quite active and there’s nothing she hates more than people trying to tell her to stop whatever she’s doing to sit down and rest.  _ “I’ll age faster if you don’t let me move!” _ she used to argue with her children.

“That’s good then,” he eventually said. “We didn’t get the chance to meet up the last time I was here.”

His grandmother nodded thoughtfully before she suddenly seemed to realize something. Minho could practically see the gears turning in her head as she turned to him with widened eyes and a puzzled expression.

“Now that you mentioned your last visit, that reminds me, where is our dear Jisungie?”

Ah… there it is – the question that Minho has been dreading. He never should’ve brought up the last time they were here. Just the reminder of Jisung made him feel like his heart is about to seize up.

“He promised me he’ll come back here with you.” She continued excitedly as she poured the brewed tea into a pair of her favorite ceramic teacups. “I just finished knitting a sweater for him, dear! It has this little squirrel and kitten by the chest. I know it’s summer and he can’t use it yet, but oh I cannot wait for him to try it on!”

Knowing his grandma, Minho’s sure that she spent days, if not weeks, hunched on her favorite rocking chair, painstakingly knitting the sweater that she promised to give Jisung the next time they meet.

“Grandma, uhm… Jisung and I… We…“

_ “We broke up.”  _ Was what he wanted to tell her, but the words just couldn’t seem to get past his lips.

When Minho brought Jisung over last winter, his grandmother instantly loved him. He was honestly not surprised, because in some ways, Jisung and his grandmother are very alike.

He’s a ray of sunshine, warmhearted, comfortable, caring. Just like his grandma.

Jisung and his grandmother spent hours tending to the house’s indoor garden, making tisanes out of the herbs she had, knitting as they watched dramas (or in Jisung’s case,  _ trying _ to knit), and playing with recipes, recruiting Minho as the taste-tester.

When it was time to leave, his grandmother even cried. She made Jisung promise that he’ll come back as soon as possible while she piled his arms with bundles after bundles of side dishes in her favorite ceramic containers.

All the memories they had in this house was filled with warmth, even warmer than the fire burning in the fireplace that winter.

He glanced at his grandmother now and saw that she’s looking at him with expectant eyes, a bright and excited smile on her face, and he just couldn’t bring himself to tell her that Jisung is no longer a part of his life.

He took one of the steaming cups she set on the counter and gestured for her to sit beside him. He carefully sipped on it as he waited for her to settle down before he continued speaking.

“Jisung and I, we-” His grandmother’s eyes instantly filled with worry as she recognized the hesitation in his voice.

He can’t break her heart like this. Not now, not yet.

He felt guilty for what he’s about to do, but he decided to throw caution and reason to the wind.

“We- we haven’t seen each other in a while.” Technically, he isn’t lying. It’s been five months since he last saw Jisung.

“I… just have been really busy over the past couple of months so I haven’t told him I’m going here.” That’s not a lie either.

He really was busy from all the projects he had to do as a final requirement before he graduated from college. And he was thankful for all of it because they served as a distraction from Jisung and from the stupid things that he might do – like call him and beg for him to come back.

“Don’t worry, gran. I’ll call him and ask if he wants to come spend the summer here.”

Now  _ that _ was not entirely true. The chances of him calling Jisung  _ and _ asking him to spend the summer together are highly unlikely right now.

“Oh! I would love that, dear!” His grandmother said happily, even clapping her hands softly. “Can you call him right now so I can talk to him too?”

Minho felt a heavy weight settle in his gut. He knew he just dug himself into a deep, deep hole.

“Uhm… I think he’s still sleeping right now.” Thankfully, that’s also not a lie. He knew Jisung sleeps until the afternoon because he stays up late into the night.

“Oh, right. I understand!” His grandmother had a disgruntled look but it only lasted for a second before she’s back to beaming again. “Let’s try calling him later in the evening then.”

Minho nods at his grandmother before taking a long sip of his tea again. At least he still has a few hours to think of a way out of this situation.  _ “Everything is going to be okay.” _ He told himself, trying to calm down the panic that he’s feeling. But the words do not sound convincing even to his own ears.

***

“Everything is definitely not going to be okay!” Minho wailed desperately to his cousin, who just gave him an exasperated look.

Just as his grandmother had predicted, Hyunjin dropped by that afternoon to see him before they both went to the younger’s family house to greet his uncle and aunt. They’re now sitting on the roof right in front of his cousin’s second-floor room, looking at the setting sun with bags of chips and bottles of soda between them.

While they may not see each other all the time, Minho still feels comfortable with Hyunjin, enough to entrust him with his biggest dilemma right now.

“Well, whose fault is it that you lied to Nana-“

“I tried not to!” Minho cut him off.

“Oh, sorry. You didn’t lie. You just kept the truth from her,” Hyunjin rolled his eyes at him. “That’s practically the same as lying. You know that, right? I hope you don’t make a habit out of that.”

“What are you? My guidance counselor or something?” He frowned at his cousin.

“You know I’m right. And just because you’re older doesn’t mean I won’t point out you’re wrong.”

Minho just sighed. His heart felt heavy with guilt. “I know… I just… I’m not ready to tell anyone that Jisung and I are no longer together. Especially grandma, she loves him.” From the corner of his eyes, he can see Hyunjin looking at him intently. He chose to avoid his cousin’s stare and scrolled through his phone instead. “I just feel like telling other people about it kind of makes it permanent,” he added.

“Isn’t your breakup permanent in the first place?” Hyunjin asked, looking thoroughly confused.

Minho huffed out a laugh. His cousin can be brutally honest most of the time, but there’s nothing better than talking with him if you want to be slapped with reality. “I guess… yes, it’s permanent. I don’t know. Things were… ambiguous.”

“Why don’t you invite him then? Nana will get to see him and maybe you can resolve your problems too.”

“Are you seriously suggesting that?” He shot his cousin a baffled expression. “We haven’t talked for  _ months _ . You think I can just call him and ask him to come here out of the blue?”

“Well,  _ I  _ definitely can.” Hyunjin said as he quickly snatched Minho’s phone. Before the latter even realized what was happening, Hyunjin had already dialled Jisung’s contact number.

“What the fuck? Hyunjin!” Minho frantically tried to take the phone from Hyunjin’s grasp but his little shit of a cousin stood up and held the device above his head, knowing full well that Minho wouldn’t dare try standing up on the roof because of his fear of heights.

He watched helplessly as Hyunjin tapped on the Speaker icon with an evil grin on his face.

When the first ring echoed throughout the open space, every other sound around Minho seemed to go silent. The only thing he could hear is the ringing from his phone and the incredibly loud pounding of his heart.

He silently prayed for Jisung to drop the call. After all, it’s been months since they last contacted each other. Maybe he’ll just ignore it. He’ll probably even think Minho’s weird for having the nerve to call him after everything that happened.

Surely, by now, Jisung has moved on.

The thought pained him, but it’s better than thinking about how he’ll embarrass himself all over again to his ex-boyfriend.

“Hyunjin, if you do not end that call right now, I swear to God I’ll-”

_ “Hello?”  _ A familiar voice cut him off, the static-y sound too loud as both Hyunjin and Minho held their breath.

Jisung’s voice shouldn’t affect him this much. It shouldn’t break down the walls that he’s been building all over himself this quickly. But it did.

His mere voice seemed to breathe emotions into Minho’s shriveled, jaded heart again, as melodramatic as that may sound, and it was all overwhelming.

_ “Minho?” _ Jisung spoke again hesitantly. That seemed to snap Hyunjin out of his daze. He threw the phone to Minho as if it burned him.

Minho caught it with trembling fingers and simply stared at the screen. He couldn’t believe that Jisung hadn’t blocked his number yet and actually answered his call.

_ “Hello? Are you there?”  _ He heard Jisung’s muffled sigh from the other end of the line.  _ “Guess some things never change.”  _ Jisung added in a small voice, most likely speaking to himself. Minho’s reminded of all the times he accidentally dialed Jisung’s number whenever he forgets to lock his phone.

Finally regaining a bit of his sanity, Minho turned off the loud speaker and brought the phone to his ear. “Hello? Jisung?” His voice came out a little shaky.

_ “Oh. You’re actually there. Hey...” _

It’s bittersweet how Jisung’s voice can bring so many memories, both happy and sad, to the surface.

“Hey, uhh… I’m sorry for calling out of the blue. Are you busy?”

_ “No, not really. Why are you calling?” _

Minho smiles bitterly to himself as he recalls how he didn’t need a reason to call the younger back then. He called Jisung for the littlest things – to ask him what he’s doing, what he ate for lunch, how his day went, and what he’s thinking about.

“Uhh, this may sound weird, but I kind of need your help,” Minho started, taking a deep breath to prepare himself for the embarrassment of what he’s about to say. “I’m spending the summer with grandma. I haven’t told her that we—“

He didn’t even know how to put into words whatever it is that happened to them. Did they actually break up?

“—that we, you know. Anyway, I tried to tell her, but then she told me she knitted a sweater for you. She looked so happy, and I just couldn’t bring myself to say you’re not coming…” He rambled on, hoping that Jisung understood what he meant and he didn't have to explain it further because the humiliation was eating him up.

Jisung stayed silent on the other end, and for a moment, Minho thought that he had hung up on him, but a quick glance at the screen told him that the call is still ongoing.

After a few seconds, Jisung finally answered.  _ “So what you’re trying to say is that you want me to go there?” _

“Uhm… yeah. And maybe spend the summer here with us? I mean, if you want to. I don’t know…” He waves his hand in the air, even though there’s only his cousin to see his panicked gestures.

_ “Are you serious right now?” _

Minho felt his entire face heating up from embarrassment. But there’s no turning back now, so he might as well keep going.

“I know I’m an asshole for even having the nerve to ask you a favor. But… I just don’t know what to do.” He sounded desperate and he hated it.

He heard Jisung heave a deep muffled sigh from the other end of the call.

_ “Alright, fine. I’ll do it.”  _ Jisung answered after a beat or two, surprising Minho who fully expected to be turned down.  _ “But we’re still going to tell gran the truth. Okay?” _

“Yeah, okay. Thank you,” he said, his voice shaky again as the realization that he’ll see Jisung again soon overwhelmed him. “Thanks for agreeing to this.”

Jisung kept silent again for a beat or two.  _ “I’m doing this for gran. I’ll see you, then.” _ He finally said before hanging up.

Minho stared at his phone silently, repeating the conversation in his head over and over again. It hurts how their relationship is now reduced to this. They used to talk naturally and comfortably about anything under the sun, because before they were boyfriends, they were the best of friends.

And yet, at the back of his mind, there’s a part of him that couldn’t help but hope. It’s a dangerous thought and he tried not to entertain it.

But it’s there, setting him up for another round of heartbreak because he knows that what they had is now perhaps beyond repair.

“You know,” Hyunjin piped up from beside him. “I don’t know what happened between the two of you, but I have a feeling that it’s something to do with you or Jisung’s pride. You both have too much of it for your own good.”

“Shut up.” He snapped exasperatedly at his cousin, who simply shrugged and offered him a can of soda, as if he didn’t just wreak havoc in his life.

***

Minho straightened his already immaculate button-down shirt for the hundredth time in the past hour as he tried to get his nerves under control. He’s currently standing as stiff as a statue at the bus station, waiting for Jisung to arrive.

After that unexpected call he made two days ago (thanks to his annoying cousin), Jisung texted to inform him that he would arrive today and then called later that evening to talk to his grandmother. They didn’t talk anymore after that, save from the text Jisung sent earlier to tell him his bus number and arrival time, to which Minho just replied with a simple  _ “Okay, got it. Take care!” _

Truth be told, Minho has a lot of things he wanted to tell Jisung.

He wanted to ask him how he’s been doing, what he’s been up to, and if he’s finished that painting he was working on the last time they talked. He wanted to ask about Jisung’s parents and his older brother, who showed him nothing but kindness.

He wanted to tell him that he’s a little nervous about graduating, facing the real world, and becoming a full-fledged adult, that he’s been accepted into the dance school that he’d always wanted to teach in, that Dori now knows how to fetch a ball, that he finally got a good picture of all his three cats in one frame.

He wanted to tell Jisung that he misses him — his smile, his laughter, the feeling of his fingers entwined with his, his warmth when they cuddle. He wanted to tell him that he misses everything about him so much. And that he’s sorry.

“Minho?” A familiar voice snapped Minho out of his thoughts. With a bewildered expression, he looked at the source of it – Jisung, who was now standing right in front of him with an expectant look on his face, waving a hand to catch his attention.

Minho felt his face heat up from embarrassment. “Oh. Hey! How long have you been there?”

“Long enough to see you make a hundred different expressions.” Jisung said amusedly, but again, Minho wasn’t paying attention, because he is now fully focused on his ex-boyfriend’s new hair color. The last time they met, Jisung sported blonde locks. Now, it’s been replaced by a dark brown shade, almost similar to Jisung’s natural hair color.

“You’ve changed your hair color.” Minho said without thinking, only realizing how stupid he sounds after the words have left his mouth.

He spent all morning preparing for this, went to the bus station a whole hour early, only for him to completely make a fool out of himself the moment they met again after their breakup.

“Uhm... yeah, the roots were growing out and I didn’t watch to bleach it anymore.” Jisung answered, consciously running a hand through his hair. “Why? Does it look bad?”

“No. I think it looks amazing on you.” Minho blurted out, perhaps too honestly. He was mentally slapping himself because,  _ really _ , where the fuck did his brain-to-mouth filter go?

“Okay. T-thanks.” Jisung cleared his throat, looking taken aback by the sudden compliment. “So, are we gonna go to grandma or what?”

“Oh, yeah. C’mon, let’s get going.” Minho reached for one of the two bags that Jisung was carrying. Both bags looked heavy, as if Jisung stuffed them up until their seams were close to bursting open.

His suspicions were confirmed when Jisung silently passed one to him and he almost dropped the bag because of how surprisingly heavy it was.

“I’m sorry for putting you through all this trouble again,” Minho said once they were halfway through their walk. He watched Jisung shrug from the corner of his eyes before pointing to the bag Minho was carrying.

“It’s okay. I wanted to visit gran anyway because I had to return those ceramic containers.”

“Ah, so that’s why it’s so heavy.” Jisung snorted at that but quickly schooled his features into a neutral expression after. “So,” Minho continued. “How have you been?”

“I’m doing good. How about you?”

This is the kind of small talk that Minho hates and he knew Jisung hates it too. But maybe it’s just normal talk for exes meeting again after a long time. “I’m okay. I got into the dance school I was telling you about and I finally taught Dori how to fetch a ball.” He said, stopping himself from spilling out all the stories that he wanted to tell the younger.

He heard Jisung chuckle beside him. “You did a lot over these past months then. I can’t say the same for myself.”

“What about your paintings?”

“Ah those. I took a break from painting.”

Minho nodded thoughtfully at that, wondering if it’s okay to ask him why, but ultimately deciding not to. He’s learned long ago that Jisung prefers to work out creative hurdles on his own and at his own pace. Asking him about his problems with his art only serves to make him feel pressured.

His grandmother’s house has now come into view. He fixed his gaze on it as he listened to the sound of their combined footsteps. It’s a familiar sound, one that also gave him a feeling of comfort, and he opted to focus on it for the rest of the way.

His grandmother was waiting for them by the front porch when they arrived, arms ready to pull Jisung into the warmest hug. Minho watched as she gushed about how much she missed Jisung, squeezing his cheeks and beaming brightly as she shepherded the two of them to the kitchen, where a freshly baked batch of cookies were waiting to be eaten.

“Woah! Are these peanut butter cookies?” Jisung exclaimed, eyes wide with delight as he turned to his grandmother. For a quick moment, Minho was startled by the sound of his excited voice because it’s been so long since he last heard it and he honestly didn’t think that he’d hear it again.

“Yes, dear. I remembered how much you love them the last time you were here, so I baked some for you.” Minho’s grandmother said excitedly as she set a pot of water over the stove, intent on making hot chocolate to go along with the cookies. “Tell me all about what you did since we last met!” She called out to Jisung while preparing her ingredients.

As much as Minho tried to look like he already knew everything Jisung was talking about, he couldn’t help but look curious when Jisung recounted to his grandmother all that had happened within the last few months.

He learned that Jisung did finish the painting he was working on and submitted it for evaluation, which passed with flying colors. But after that he got into a slump and stopped painting altogether and was currently turning to music to hopefully find motivation again.

He found out that Jisung discovered an affinity for planting and has been growing all kinds of herbs at home to his mother’s delight, all thanks to Minho’s grandma. At this part, his grandmother looked so proud and happy that Minho couldn’t help but smile fondly at the two of them.

He knew it was wrong for him to lie, regardless of how pure his intentions were. And he even looped his innocent ex-boyfriend into it. But for a moment, he let himself forget and simply enjoyed the sight of his grandmother’s warm smile.

By the time chocolate bars melted and turned the boiling water into a thick smooth liquid, the kitchen was filled with the decadent scent of chocolate. His grandmother carefully ladled the hot cocoa into large mugs and set them on the table before sitting down herself.

The three of them shared cookies and hot cocoa that warmed their tummy while recounting stories that warmed their hearts. Jisung continued to fill them in with details of what he’s been doing since the winter ended, and Minho continued to listen to him with rapt attention – the two of them completely missing the curious, questioning glances that his grandmother had whenever they’re not looking.

***

The rest of their day passed by in a blur. Minho’s grandma gave Jisung his handmade sweater during lunchtime. Judging by how Jisung gently thumbed the seams and the embroidered kitten and squirrel by the chest before hugging his grandmother tightly and emerging from that with glassy eyes, it’s safe to say that he loved it.

A good part of their afternoon was spent chopping the ingredients for their dinner, which was his grandma’s special beef stew. She made sure to serve them heaping servings of it to make up for their effort. When dinner ended, both Minho and Jisung felt like their stomach was about to burst with all the food that they ate in just a single day.

“Do you feel okay? Let me know if you need medicine.” Minho asked Jisung as they climbed the stairs that lead to the bedrooms. “Sorry my grandma fed us too much, you know how she is.”

“It’s okay. I kind of missed it.” Jisung said with a wistful smile.

The hallway at the second floor is a bit narrow and their shoulders were bumping as they walked side by side. They could’ve just  _ not _ walked beside each other, but neither of them fell a step behind or took the lead. Minho didn’t know what to make of it.

Ever since Jisung arrived at his grandma’s home earlier, the two of them hadn’t talked exclusively to each other. All their conversations were always with his grandma. It was weird because it felt like they were acquaintances, only talking to each other because of a mutual friend.

He thought that he’s making Jisung uncomfortable, so he didn’t understand why the younger seemed to be so unbothered now that it’s just the two of them, bumping against each other in a narrow hallway.

_ “Maybe you were just overthinking things.”  _ Minho’s brain supplied. _ “He’s probably moved on enough to not give a shit about such a simple contact.” _

That made a lot of sense, if Minho thought about it. He’s the only one freaking out about this because he’s probably the only one with lingering feelings.

He tried to tamp down the urge to reach for Jisung’s hand or ignore the tingly feelings he got every time their bare arms brushed against each other.

The house’s hallway never felt so long until now. Thankfully, they eventually reach the door to a guest room.

Minho cleared his throat awkwardly. “So, this is your room. It’s the same room as the last time.” He said as he opened the door slowly and gestured to Jisung to go in.

“Yeah, it’s the same room.” He heard Jisung say quietly, sounding like his thoughts were preoccupied with something else.

Minho chanced a glance at the younger and saw him looking around the room with a pensive expression, eyes darting from the large window with yellow curtains to the small bedside table, to the antique drawer, and then to the unorganized bookshelf, before finally landing on the bed.

And that’s when Minho realized that  _ yes, this is the same room.  _ The same room where Jisung slept last winter. The same room Minho creeped into before midnight, after getting a text from Jisung that he couldn’t sleep.

The same room where they spent the small hours of the chilly winter morning huddled in each other’s arms, voices hushed as they spoke each other’s name, lips quietly smacking as they meld together, hands a little more adventurous than usual, daring to discover uncharted parts of each other’s body that they haven’t explored before.

Yes, this is indeed that same room.

And why the hell did Minho bring him to this room where there are three more guest rooms in this house? He wanted to just hit his head on the nearest wall and pray that it would regain its ability to think.

A quick glance at Jisung’s profile tells him that he’s probably having the same flashbacks as well, if the reddening tips of his ears, neck and cheeks are any indicator.

“Uhm, do you want a different roo-”

“No! This is okay!”

“Okay!” Minho said, trying to expel the awkward tension between them, but he accidentally said it too loudly, so it only startled both of them.

He cleared his throat again, no longer trusting his voice anymore. “Uhm, you know where the bathroom is. Just text me-“ He cut himself off, remembering again the last time Jisung texted him in this room. “-I mean, uhm, tell me if you need anything. Text me, or knock - you know where my bedroom is. I mean, not that I-”

“Yes. Okay. Minho, I understand what you’re saying,” Jisung finally cut off his rambling, turning to him with a pained look and cheeks that were flaming red, probably with embarrassment as well.

“Oh, yeah. Okay. I’ll leave now.” Minho said intelligently as he pointed to the door and started walking backwards. Jisung gave a curt nod, his eyes were focused intently on the floor.

Once he was out of Jisung’s room, Minho all but ran into his own bedroom, slumping against the door behind him as he tried to calm the rapid beating of his heart.

_ “Oh my god, this is so fucking embarrassing.”  _ He thought to himself.

They haven’t even told his grandmother the truth, or talked about what happened to them and the fact that they’re trying to pretend that they’re still in a romantic relationship right now, and yet here he was unable to control his thoughts, blurting out the most inappropriate responses since morning, and struggling to ignore the physical attraction he feels towards Jisung.

He sighed and buried his face in his hands, lamenting all the stupid life choices that he made before finally dragging himself to bed.

Their next days pretty much went the same way. They woke up to freshly cooked breakfast made by his grandmother, who always seemed to be up and about. ( _ “Don’t worry dear, this is normal for old people. The older you are, the less sleep you get! _ ” his grandmother had chuckled at him when he voiced his concerns.)

After breakfast, they try to help however they can with household chores. Sometimes they even had to bicker with his grandma just so she’d let them wash the dishes, do the laundry or water her plants. Then came lunchtime, snacktime, and dinnertime.

“All we do is eat.” Jisung had told him one afternoon, as he stuffed syrup-drenched waffles into his cheeks. Minho had to nod in agreement, rubbing his full tummy in contentment.

When bedtime rolls around, he’d always walk the younger to his room before going to his own, for absolutely no reason other than just because. Jisung never said a word about it either. They’ll walk side by side, oftentimes in silence, but sometimes making small talks, before bidding each other goodnight.

Before they knew it, a whole week had passed with their secret still kept just like that.

***

Waking up in an unfamiliar bed, surrounded by unfamiliar scents and sounds, is unnerving, at least to Jisung, because he always takes a minute or two after waking up to shake off the haze of sleep and find his bearings.

When he finally got his brain to work and realized where he is and what he’s supposed to be doing here, he groaned to himself. 

It’s been a week since he arrived here and yet he still feels unfamiliar with the place, probably because he can’t really be comfortable with the weight of the secret that he and Minho have.

Truth be told, he doesn’t know either why he agreed to help Minho with this mess. He wasn’t thinking rationally at the time. Minho’s call was surprising, and his “favor” even more so, that even when Jisung tried to think logically, all he could blurt out was some form of acceptance, with the condition that they’d tell the truth one way or another — something that they haven’t really done a good job of doing.

He tried to convince himself that he’s doing all this for Minho’s grandmother. But while he really missed his grandma and wanted to see her again, he can’t deny that he also took this as a chance to talk to Minho.

He curled up on the bed, snuggling the comfy patchwork blanket that he’s sure Minho’s grandmother made on her own, as he tried to remember what exactly happened between him and the older boy.

It’s been five months, so his memories are hazy, but the words spoken between them that day still stand out to him.

“What’s wrong?” Minho had asked him. They were sitting next to each other on the ran-down couch that Jisung struggled to fit in his room, having just finished watching some comedy film that he didn’t even bother to pay attention to. He turned to Minho and gave him a questioning hum to ask him what he was saying. “The movie was kind of funny,” Minho shrugged. “But you didn’t laugh or even smile. Is there anything bothering you?”

There was, actually. Jisung felt tired. Not because of watching a movie, but because of  _ them. _ He had half the mind to just let it go and move on to avoid any sort of disagreement with his then-boyfriend. But he’s never really one to bottle up what he feels, and so he ended up saying the first thing that came to his mind, not even bothering to organize his thoughts first.

“I’m tired. Of us.” 

Looking back at that moment now, all there was for him to feel are shame and regret. 

There were so many ways he could’ve said what’s been bothering him, and yet he chose to say it in the way that hurt Minho the most.

He scrubbed his hands roughly over his face out of frustration before getting up and fixing the bed, deciding that there’s no use wallowing in memories he could never change. He checked his phone on the bedside table and was surprised to see that it’s only 6:31 in the morning. The last time he woke up this early was back in middle school, when his mother still nags him to get up for school. Nowadays, his mother just let him be late because she probably lost hope that he’ll ever be punctual.

He drags his feet to the bathroom, a little room with an antique cast iron tub, surrounded by wooden shelves that were filled with different kinds of shampoos, soaps, lotions, a few candles, and some hanging plants here and there.  _ “She loves to collect body care products.” _ Minho had explained when Jisung asked during his last visit.

He took his time taking a bath before he finally deemed himself presentable and logical enough to face another day. After changing his clothes, he went down to make breakfast for the three of them, passing by the wall of picture frames beside the stairs. 

He’s already passed by this photo wall a number of times now, but he never really had the chance to look at it closely.

It made his heart go soft and warm. Minho’s grandma is so loving and it just shows in every inch of her home. He recognized some of the people in the pictures as Minho’s parents, his aunt, and his uncle. Baby pictures of Minho and his cousin were there as well. The frames around them have faded with the passage of time, except for one.

The newer frame by the bottom of the stairs caught Jisung’s eyes, its sky blue color standing out in contrast to the faded wooden frames of the older pictures. When he finally saw the photo it houses, his heart clenched. It was a picture of him and Minho, and between them is his grandmother. 

They were sitting down on the living room couch, their profiles highlighted with the golden hue from the fairy lights that they hung around the house, and beside them is the Christmas tree that they decorated with so many poinsettia that the green leaves were almost nowhere to be seen. 

He remembered grandma insisting on taking a picture using her old film camera that night. She was smiling so widely in the picture that her eyes turned into crescents surrounded by laugh lines. On her left was Jisung, grinning just as widely, and on her right was Minho, looking their way with a fond smile.

And for the second time that day, Jisung was hit with feelings of guilt and sadness. Did he deserve to be included in this photo wall? Did he deserve to be considered a part of the family?

With one last glance, he turned away from the photo before he lost it and began sobbing his heart out. He tried to compose himself as he walked towards the kitchen, and he’s thankful that he did, because to his surprise, Minho’s grandmother was already up and about.

There were plates of sausages and egg omelets over the countertop, and on the stove were strips of bacon cooking in their own oil.

“Good morning, gran.” He called out to Minho’s grandma, who seemed startled by his appearance.

“Jisung dear, you’re up early!” Jisung scratched the back of his head at that, he’s guilty for always sleeping in so late. “Did you have trouble sleeping?”

“Oh no. Don’t worry. I slept well, I really feel well-rested.” 

“Just let me or Minho know if you need something, okay?” Jisung nodded and sent her his best heart-shaped smile, and that seemed enough to reassure her. “So, tell me dear,” she continued, “how’s everything between you and Minho?”

The kind yet wise look in her eyes as she turned to him told Jisung that this is not just a simple question. That she’s probably caught on that there’s something wrong between him and the older boy and she’s just waiting for them to fess up. But Jisung couldn’t do this alone. He honestly didn’t know how to even begin to explain to grandma what happened between them.

“Uhm… we’re okay,” he managed to respond hesitantly as he focused on stuffing the toaster with loaves of bread. “We’re not at the best point of our relationship right now, to be honest. But we’re okay.” There. At least that was a little close to the truth.

If the smile he sent her way looked sad, she didn’t comment on it. Instead, she nodded her head in understanding.

“I see, I had a feeling it was that.” She said softly, shuffling over to him and wrapping an arm around his shoulder. “I just want you to know that if you’re feeling uncomfortable or sad, you don’t have to hide it for my sake. I would definitely understand you regardless.”

Jisung leaned on her shoulder, feeling his eyes well up again, but this time it’s not out of guilt or sadness, but out of the overflowing fondness that he’s feeling. 

Before meeting Minho’s grandmother, he never really knew what it felt like to have grandparents, because his grandparents from both sides of the family passed away years when he was young. He felt very lucky to have been given the chance to feel what it’s like now, because Minho’s grandmother treats him like her own.

“Why are you so wise, grandma?” He managed to choke out past the tightness in his throat.

“It comes with old age. It’s a consolation you get after all the back pains and arthritis.” She said with a delightful giggle that reminded Jisung of Minho’s own laughter. She dropped the topic of him and Minho and instead asked about his parents until they've served all the food on the table.

“I’ll wake up Minho, gran.” Jisung said as he removed his apron, hearing their grandmother hum her assent as he walked out the kitchen and dining area.

Just like Jisung, Minho was a heavy sleeper, so it didn’t come as a surprise that he’s still fast asleep even after Jisung banged on his bedroom door more times than he could count.

Heaving a sigh of frustration, Jisung finally decided to just enter the room instead after confirming that Minho didn’t bother locking it.

He knocked a couple more times before finally turning the knob, slowly opening the door, and stepping inside the older’s room. Minho was sprawled out on the bed at the other side of the room, body turned away from the door, with a pillow over his head.

Jisung chuckled at sight. Minho must’ve put that pillow unconsciously over his ears to drown out the sound of Jisung’s knocking. He quietly walked towards the bedside and gently lifted the pillow, setting it down by the foot of the bed.

This gives him an unhindered view of a sleeping Minho and he couldn’t help the smile that tugged on his lips. The older boy looked at peace, and to be completely honest, Jisung thought he looked absolutely cute too, with his mouth pressed into a pout, hair ruffled and hands folded underneath his head like a child.

He realized that he was staring creepily, so he mentally reprimanded himself before taking a deep breath to chase away the weird nervousness he was feeling.

“Minho, get up before grandma’s food goes cold,” he said as he nudged Minho’s shoulders. That only earned him a grunt.

Sighing to himself, he shook Minho a lot harder. “Wake up, Minho!” Out of nowhere, Minho’s hand shot up to swat him away. Thank God he had good reflexes because he was able to avoid it narrowly.

At this point, all Jisung could think of were the bacon losing their crispness, the sausages becoming greasy, and the hot chocolate going cold. Desperate times call for desperate measures, he told himself, as he aggressively poked Minho’s sides where he knew the older was extremely ticklish.

“Gaaaah!” Jisung heard Minho screeched, before he was pulled by a pair of strong arms into the bed.

***

One of the things Minho hated the most was being woken up by tickling. The only person that ever had the guts to do it more than once was Jisung. And he couldn’t even hate Jisung for doing it back when they were together, because he looked cute when he did it playfully.

So when he felt fingers poking the sides of his tummy where he’s ticklish, the first thought that popped up into his sleep-fogged brain is,  _ “I must be dreaming.” _

This was probably one of those pathetic dreams he gets where they’re still together. So he did what he used to do when Jisung tickled him awake - he pulled the younger into his arms and smothered him in a hug.

He looked sleepily at the boy on top of him and cupped his puffy cheeks gently in one of his hands. “This is a dream, right?” He softly whispered, stroking the apple of Jisung’s cheeks where a deep flush was blooming. He missed this. So much.

“N-no, it’s not,” the younger boy stammered, eyes wide with surprise.

It took a minute — the most grueling minute in Jisung’s life — before the words finally sunk into Minho’s brain and he realized that no, this is  _ not  _ a dream. And yes, this is the  _ real  _ Jisung he’s holding captive on top of him right now, with one of his hands still gently resting on the cutest cheeks in the world.

“Oh fuck!” He exclaimed, releasing Jisung, who got up to his feet immediately. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to.” 

“No, it’s okay. It’s my fault.” Jisung said as he frantically waved his hands in front of him. “I forgot that that’s how you react.” 

“Ugh, I’m really sorry. I thought I was dreaming.” Minho tried to explain, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Uhh, it’s okay. Anyway, gran prepared breakfast, so we should really go down before the food goes cold.”

“Yeah, you go first. I’ll come down in a minute.” Minho managed to choke out past his embarrassment. He needed a minute or two to compose himself, to will down the heat threatening to overtake his body, and to calm the pounding of his heart.

Jisung nodded at him and walked towards the door. Just when Minho thought that he'd leave him alone, Jisung turned back to him with a curious expression.

“Does that mean you still dream of me?” He asked, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. 

And before Minho could respond — before he could even process what Jisung just said — the younger was out of his room and running downstairs.

Minho spent the next minutes in a daze as he freshened himself up. He was completely relying on muscle memory to take care of his hygiene as he tried to find a good explanation for what just happened and tried to decipher what it all meant. 

Is Jisung…  _ flirting  _ with him? Can he hope?

For a second, Minho thought that he also saw a flash of hope in Jisung’s eyes, but maybe that was just his imagination.

He huffed in front of the mirror, fogging up the glass. _“_ No, you will not hope,” he said aloud to the reflection staring back at him. _“At least, not until we talk about our problems and tell grandma the truth.”_ He added as an afterthought.

“Good morning, grandma.” He leaned down to place a peck on top of his grandmother’s graying hair. “Wow, you cooked a lot!” He said, eyeing the breakfast spread on the table.

“Jisungie helped me cook all that.” She declared with a proud smile before beckoning him to sit on the available chair, which was conveniently beside Jisung, because the seat next to her is occupied by a basket full of lettuce.

“What’s with all that lettuce?” He eyed the basket suspiciously as he took a seat, trying to ignore how close he was to Jisung.

“I harvested them from the garden this morning. It’s too much for the three of us, though, so can you take these to your aunt later? Take Jisung with you.”

The last thing Minho wants is for Hyunjin to hang out with Jisung. Hyunjin was so busy with his summer classes that he only had time to say hi to Jisung when he came by to check on his grandmother a few days ago. 

And Minho would like to keep it that way, because he just  _ knows _ Hyunjin will find a way to humiliate him and make his life more difficult right in front of his ex.

“Alright, I’ll take it to them after lunch.”

His grandmother narrowed her eyes at him playfully. “I want you and Jisung to go.”

Minho turned to Jisung. “Do you want to go?”  _ Please say no, please say no _ .

“Uhh, sure, I want to greet them too.”

Minho had to physically restrain himself from letting out a loud frustrated groan, opting to just nod instead, already thinking of ways to keep Hyunjin from meeting Jisung.

***

“So, Minho... Jisung,” Hyunjin begins in a singsong voice, staring pointedly at Minho as if mocking him. “How have you two been? The last time you were here, the three of us didn’t get a chance to hang out!”

All of the ways Minho came up with to keep Jisung from Hyunjin’s clutches turned out to be useless because the second they arrived in the latter’s home, his cousin already attached himself to his ex-boyfriend like they were the bestest of friends who knew each other since birth.

Jisung looked uncomfortable at first, but Hyunjin kept being tactile and talkative that Jisung really didn’t have a choice but to warm up to him. Fortunately, Hyunjin has been behaving well and he hasn’t said anything embarrassing so far. That was, until he decided to ask that question.

Minho gave him a warning glare, silently imploring him to shut the hell up, before he spoke. “We’re doing great.” At the corner of his eye, he saw Jisung nodding enthusiastically.

“Pfft! Jisung, you don’t have to pretend in front of me!” Hyunjin said, obviously delighted at the frustration that he saw on Minho’s face. “I know about what happened. I was actually the one who dialed your number using Minho’s phone, so I’m kind of at fault for dragging you into this. Sorry about that.”

“Oh, really?” Jisung remarked before shooting a questioning look at Minho, like he’s judging him for not mentioning this important little detail before they met his cousin. “It’s okay,” Jisung continued, “I wanted to see grandma anyway.”

“Wow, okay, that’s a relief.” Hyunjin declared dramatically, bringing a hand up to his chest as if checking his heartbeat. “So… are you two okay now, or…?”

If Minho could, he would beat his cousin’s ass right now. He should’ve known the guy won’t be able to hold his tongue. “If you don’t shut up right now, I’ll beat you up with this lettuce.” He said, brandishing the leafy weapon that they’re currently in the process of turning into kimchi.

Hyunjin held his hands up in defeat. “Jeez, I was just concerned.” 

To Minho’s relief, his cousin kept quiet after that. For a whole five minutes. 

“So, how did the two of you meet anyway? You never told me.” Hyunjin piped up.

“Didn’t I tell you to shut-”

“Minho didn’t tell you?” Jisung said, cutting off Minho. The older boy looked at him as if he grew a third head, totally surprised that he’s actually answering Hyunjin. “We have a mutual friend that we love to tease. He introduced us to each other. He likes to make his own life miserable like that.”

Minho couldn’t help but chuckle as he remembered how Changbin, his childhood friend and Jisung’s best friend back in high school, regretted that he let the two of them meet, just a couple of hours after he made the introductions. 

“Well, to be fair, he didn’t really introduce us by choice,” Minho added. “I just ran into the two of you in front of the school by accident.”

“Yeah, well, he still probably considers it the worst day of his life.” 

“Remember when we spiked his cola with fish sauce?” Minho asked, making Jisung cackle at the memory.

That somehow opened a floodgate of memories between the two of them, and they spent the next hour just reminiscing and making Hyunjin laugh as they recount stories of how they used to have fun at the expense of their poor martyr friend Changbin. 

For a moment, Minho found himself hoping again - a feeling that he immediately dismissed, especially when he caught Hyunjin sending the two of them a knowing look.

By the time they finished making a batch of kimchi, Hyunjin was complaining about his sore jaw and gassy tummy because he laughed too much. And Minho, who was expecting himself to be pissed off at his cousin, was actually thankful for him. 

He’s thankful that Hyunjin made Jisung feel welcomed and helped him loosen up. Because if it hadn’t been for his cousin’s pestering and lightening up the mood, they probably wouldn’t be able to remember their past without feeling bitter and sad. At least, that’s how it was for him.

“While I love third-wheeling the two of you, I think you both have to go now because it’s getting late.” Hyunjin announced as they were finishing up their work. “Oh, by the way, there’s a little fair at the town center that you might want to see. They’re having a fireworks show by 7PM.”

“Tell Auntie that we’re thankful for the meal, and bring us some kimchi when you go to grandma’s.” Minho said as he gathered up his things. 

“I had fun. Let’s hang out again the next time I visit.” He heard Jisung tell Hyunjin, to which his cousin dramatically cooed and fake-cried, gushing about how adorable Jisung is and if he can adopt him and put him in his pocket. 

Minho chose to keep quiet, acting as if he hadn’t heard the exchange. It wasn’t hard to pretend like he didn’t because he was preoccupied with his own thoughts, with battling the growing hope that had taken root in his heart and is now thriving. 

He had fun today, too. He had so much fun that he could almost forget the two of them had a problem never smoothened out. It was tempting to just forget about whatever happened and not talk about it anymore, but that would be the easy way out. A solution where none of their issues would ever really get resolved, and he knew Jisung never liked that.

Back when they were boyfriends, Jisung would always insist on talking about whatever disagreement they had, while Minho prefers to wait it out for a bit. It’s one of the things they never agreed on, because Minho believed that talking while you’re both high-strung does more harm than good.

The first time Jisung agreed to Minho’s method of waiting out is also the last fight they ever had, because after that, their relationship just fell through.

He could still remember it as if it happened just yesterday, because he could still feel the pain he felt at that moment.

“I’m tired. Of us.” Jisung had said. The words were simple, but they cut deep into his heart.

His first instinct was to defend himself because it hurt his pride. But then he realized that maybe he was tired too. 

At that time, they’ve been together for almost three years. Every day was a routine - they hung out after class, watched movies, played games, argued with each other, kissed and made up, and then it was time to go home. It felt monotonous and a little frustrating, and maybe that’s what Jisung meant when he said they were tiring. 

Minho suddenly felt like he didn’t have the energy to try and fix their problem. He just wanted to get out of there.

“Really? Do you want to take a break from this relationship then?” He had asked in a soulless voice.

“Yes.” Jisung had answered, his voice filled with certainty.

It surprised Minho, because he fully expected Jisung to argue, to insist on talking about whatever problem they had. Because that’s who Jisung was in their relationship.

What he really wanted was to wait out their argument so they wouldn’t clash, but he wasn’t mindful of the words he used, because he never thought Jisung would agree to them that easily. 

He’s the one who was always telling the younger to choose his battles whenever they argued.

“You know what your problem is? You don’t think anything about this relationship is worth your battles.” Jisung had told him one time, a bitter laugh spilling from his lips. “I don’t think you even care about us at all.”

Maybe Jisung was right, because that disagreement was yet another battle Minho chose not to fight, not knowing that it’d be the greatest one he’ll regret yet.

In the end, he walked away from Jisung, from the room they spent most of their past years in, from their relationship, telling himself that he’s just gonna wait it out, all the while expecting Jisung to be the one to reach out to him like he always did.

But Jisung never reached out again. And Minho was too much of a coward to be the one to take the first step.

Now that he looked back at that memory, it just seems so silly. Like it never should’ve been a big deal. But maybe, that was his first mistake. He never thought that the small things they argued about were important so he always avoided them, he never took Jisung’s concerns seriously.

But those small things within their three-year relationship piled up and took a toll on what they had. 

“Minho?” Jisung’s voice startled him and brought him back to reality. He looked at the boy walking beside him and giving him a questioning look. “You haven’t said a word ever since we left Hyunjin’s house.”

“Oh, sorry. I was thinking about something.” Minho said as he finally took in their surroundings. 

“You seem to be lost in your thoughts often lately.”

“I know right? And I seem to be doing a lot in front of you too.” Minho said, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment. “My brain’s intent on making me look like a fool these days.”

His feet have somehow taken them to the town center, where the fair is in full swing. Every month, the town would organize a fair like this where backyard farmers and homegrown businesses can sell their products. It always looked crowded and busy, and Minho never really had the interest to check it out whenever he chanced upon it on his yearly visits. 

But somehow tonight, the wooden booths adorned with colorful handmade signs, the strings of lights that illuminate the pathway, the upbeat music playing in the distance, the people running from one booth to the next, the smell of various dishes, the hustle and bustle of it all - they just seemed so magical. 

He suddenly felt the need to spend more time with Jisung, to draw out whatever magic the night has. He’s not ready to go home and end this day. Not yet. He’s determined to set something right today.

“Do you want to check the fair out?” He asked the younger. 

Jisung considered the idea and, for a moment, Minho thought he'd reject it. “What about grandma?” He responded instead.

Minho’s sure his grandma had somehow planned all of this in her head, but he told Jisung he’ll text her to reassure him. It didn’t come as a surprise when she replied that Hyunjin already told her they might come home late tonight.

“Let’s go?” He asked Jisung after reassuring him that his grandmother knows where they are. Jisung nodded and gave him a smile that looked somewhat shy, making his heart do somersaults inside his chest.

They walked together. And to Minho’s relief, the awkward tension between them seemed to have dissipated in the comfort of Hyunjin’s kitchen. 

They visited each booth, taking a look at what they have to offer and trying out foods that caught their fancy. Some time throughout the night, Minho had taken to lightly holding Jisung by his elbows whenever the crowd became too thick. And at one point, Jisung had even held his wrist and pulled him to one of the booths where they were selling miniature sculptures of animals.

Again, Minho didn’t dare hope. But the feeling’s there and it’s steadily growing.

With a cone of ice cream in their hands and Minho holding a boxed set of Jisung’s newly bought miniature animals with his other, he lead them to one of the benches on a little secluded part of a nearby park, where they’ll have a clear view of the fireworks later without the noise of the crowd.

He felt exhaustion creeping into his bones as he stared at the night sky. The good kind of exhaustion - the one you get when you spent the day having fun. The sky was devoid of any stars, with the pollution and night lights drowning out their glow. But somehow, the inky expanse brought him a sense of comfort and helped to clear his mind.

“Jisungie.” He said the nickname, watching Jisung’s reaction at the corner of his eyes. It’s a nickname that he used even before he became his boyfriend and he didn’t know how the younger would react to him using it again now. It seemed to get his attention, as he turned to him with wide eyes, like the name also took him by surprise.

Minho turned to him then, looking straight at him like he’s the only one he can see. And that moment, he  _ really  _ is the only one Minho can see. The rest of night - the trees, the people milling about, the faint light of the nearby lamppost - all of those seemed to blur out and turn into the inky expanse that he was watching just a minute earlier.

He smiled at Jisung, a sad smile brought about by the memories that flit through his mind at that moment, by the regret he feels, by the thought of time wasted that he could never get back, by all the memories they could’ve made but didn’t.

“I’m sorry.” He began. “I walked out on you that day and I didn’t even try to look back. I didn’t give our relationship my best. I was immature and I took you for granted.” The sky above them suddenly lit up from the fireworks display, and Minho marveled for a moment how the burst of sparkling colors mimicked all the emotions currently resurfacing in his chest right now. “I’m not asking you to forgive me,” he continued, bringing his gaze back to Jisung, who was looking up at the fireworks. “I’m also not saying this to get back with you. I just want you to know that I’m truly, sincerely sorry.”

Jisung kept quiet and continued staring at the display of colors above them. His silence probably should’ve made Minho feel more worried than he is, but it doesn’t because he truly didn’t expect anything from Jisung when he apologized. It was freeing to just let him know what’s been making his heart heavy for the past months, and that was enough.

***

Jisung kept looking at the sky even after the fireworks had long gone, quietly appreciating the moon that casted a steady glow into the night. Perhaps relationships should be appreciated like this as well, he thought.

When all the fireworks from the beginning have gone, perhaps you should still look at the beauty of love at its most deep-rooted form, when all that’s left is the steady glow of security and familiarity.

Jisung expected Minho’s apology. He’s expecting this conversation to happen. It was the proverbial elephant in the room that they needed to deal with whether they liked to or not, so they’re better off dealing with it now than later. But even though he expected this, it doesn’t make it any easier, so he appreciated that Minho didn’t press him to respond.

“I was at fault, too. The words I used… they were hurtful.” He said after a while. “I had my fair share of shortcomings- I still do. So, I want you to know that I regret what happened too. I regret losing you.” 

He finally looked back at Minho, who was already staring back at him. It felt weird to get those words off his chest after so long, but he felt lighter now.

Where will they go from here?

He won’t even try to deny that the attraction between them is still there, because he felt it and even stupidly acted on it several times now. But did he really want a commitment with Minho? He’s not sure yet, but he figured he’ll just go with the flow for now.

Minho held out a hand and offered to shake his. Jisung found it funny that they’d shake hands after the words they said, but it weirdly felt right. 

It felt as if they’re turning over a new leaf and he couldn’t help but smile at that. A smile that Minho returned with his own. For a moment, Jisung was hit with a feeling of longing. It’s been so long since he saw Minho smile that brightly. He’s always thought that Minho has the best smile, and the sparkles in his eyes always made him feel fuzzy and warm inside.

“Ready to go home?” The older boy asked, to which he responded with an enthusiastic nod.

“Let’s go. Grandma’s waiting.” 

Later that night, while Jisung was lying in bed, he kept replaying in his head all that happened within the day.

Today was fruitful and satisfying.

He made breakfast with Minho’s grandmother. He became friends with Hyunjin while making kimchi for the first time in his life. He was able to reminisce about the past without feeling hurt for the first time after a long while. He had fun at the fair and even watched a fireworks display. And most importantly, he’s starting to finally patch things up with Minho.

Slowly, things were finally turning okay.

He fell into a peaceful sleep smiling at that thought.

***

“Grandma?” Minho called out to his grandmother hesitantly upon entering the indoor garden. She’s once again busy tending to her plants, gently humming to them and telling them to grow well. 

“Minho? Why are you up so early?” She said, glancing at the clock near the door. It’s only 5 in the morning.

Minho didn’t really get a wink of sleep. He was so preoccupied with thinking of how to tell his grandmother the truth that sleep didn’t come to him that night.

“I need to tell you something.” He said as he started walking towards her, but she motioned for him to stop.

“You look like you need a warm drink, my dear. Let’s talk in the kitchen.” She peeled off her gardening gloves and started tidying up the tools she used. “You go first and boil some water. I’ll make you a cup of tea.”

Minho did just that. The water was simmering when she finally stepped into the kitchen. Minho kept quiet while he observed her preparing what looked like chamomile tea.

“I just woke up. Are you planning to get me back to sleep again?” He joked once his grandmother set the steaming cups in front of him and sat down herself.

“Maybe?” She quipped, her eyes twinkling with mirth and knowledge. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

“Uhm, do you promise not to get angry?”

“Of course, dear. I am too old for extreme emotions like that.” She gave him a kind smile. And suddenly, Minho felt silly for losing sleep over this. Why was he so afraid to tell his grandmother the truth, when she’s the kindest person he’s ever known?

“Gran, I haven’t been completely honest with you.” He began, watching her reaction for any sign of disappointment and finding none. At her encouraging nod, he continued to spill the truth, right from the beginning - what happened to him and Jisung, his lie, how he looped Jisung and even his cousin into this mess. “I am so sorry for lying to you. I promise not to do it again.” He said at the end.

“My dear, it must have been so hard for you to pretend like everything was okay.” She reached for his hand across the table and held it firmly in her grip. “Minho, I understand. It was my fault too, because I put you on the spot--”

“Please don’t say that, grandma. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Minho hurried to clarify.

His grandmother chuckled at him and gave his hand a squeeze. “Okay, okay. I won’t. But before you even told me this, I already knew that you two weren’t on good terms.”

“Is it that obvious?”

“Yes. And Jisungie told me as well.” She chuckled lightly. “But before he even said anything, I already noticed it. You two always gravitated towards each other. These days, not so much.”

“Really? Wait, but does that mean that we still do, even a little?”

“Oh definitely. You both look like you want to gravitate towards each other but you’re pushing yourself not to.”

Minho didn’t want to hope. 

But something in the way his grandmother looks at him, as if she knew something he and Jisung didn’t, tells his heart that perhaps it’s okay to stop fighting the feeling. That maybe it’s okay to do something with it now.

***

“Can I ask you something, grandma?” Jisung mused. The two of them were seated on the bench at the front porch, quietly enjoying the peace and quiet over a cup of tea and some shortbread cookies. Minho went to his aunt to bring over some of those freshly baked treats.

Minho’s grandmother nodded in affirmation, so Jisung continued, “Did you and grandpa ever fought?”

“Of course, dear. We had a lot of disagreements.” She said, her eyes taking on a distant look, the kind that you get when you look back into the past. “That’s a normal part of any relationship. You won’t always see eye to eye, because you'll have different opinions and beliefs even if you’ve been together for a long time.”

“How did you get past it? How did you get better at communicating with each other?”

Minho’s grandmother hummed in thought. “I think it’s not communication that we got better at over time, but rather our connection.” She said after a while. “You know, many people say that communication is the key to a relationship. That’s why some people think that they just need to try talking to their partner in different ways until they get their point across. But no matter how much you try to communicate, if you feel disconnected with each other, you’ll only end up frustrated and manipulated.”

Jisung felt guilty because he remembered the way he was always trying to change Minho’s mind to make him see things from his point of view back then. He didn’t even consider how manipulative that was. 

“My marriage with your grandfather wasn’t all sunshines and rainbows.” She continued as she fumbled around in her pocket for something. She brought out a small leather wallet, opened it, and pulled out an old picture of her and Minho’s grandfather. It was a black and white picture of their wedding.

“Minho looks a lot like his grandpa.” She said as she handed him the photo. Jisung took it in his hands carefully, afraid that he’ll damage the fragile thing. “It took us a long time but eventually, we figured out that we needed to have a connection first if we wanted to be open and honest with each other. I always had to remind myself that it’s not  _ me  _ against  _ him _ . Instead, it was  _ us  _ against a problem. We had to keep reminding each other why we care and why we want to communicate.”

Jisung stared at the picture in his hands. The resemblance between Minho and the handsome man in the picture is definitely noticeable. The shape of their face, their high cheekbones, and the prominent nose is similar. 

Jisung was suddenly struck by the realization of how easy it is to forget that their grandparents, even their parents, and old people in general were once their age. They also made happy memories, had their fair share of mischief, and have probably gone through the same challenges before their skin became wrinkly and their joints stiffened with old age.

He’d probably reach that age too, and when that time comes, he hopes that he’ll be as happy and wise as Minho’s grandma, with loving stories to tell anyone who was willing to listen.

And he can only picture one person to spend all those years with together.

“Thank you, grandma.” Jisung said quietly as he handed her back the photo.

She gave him a loving smile while she carefully placed the photo back in the safety of her wallet. “This may sound cliche, but you two are still young, and there will be more challenges ahead of you. Reconnecting is hard and it takes time, but you both have to keep trying.”

Jisung sent her a grateful smile and nodded thoughtfully as he took a sip of his tea, peering over the ceramic edge at Minho, who just arrived home and was waving at them from the front yard.

He could feel it, the way Minho has been trying to reconnect with him. 

It’s in the way Minho subtly takes care of him. The way Minho listens, like  _ really listens _ to whatever he says. The way he remembers even the littlest of details, no matter how insignificant they may seem. The way he tries to be more open with what he thinks and how he feels.

It’s in the way their fingertips touch and their shoulders brush when they walk beside each other to their bedrooms.

It’s in the way Minho’s hands linger at the small of his back whenever possible. 

It’s in the way Minho smiles at him softly before bidding him good night.

And now, he realizes that he’s been reconnecting with Minho as well. 

All their conversations, their subtle touches, the smiles and laughter they’ve been sharing over the past days, the times they caught each other staring - all those moments were leading up to  _ them _ , not separately, but together.

And for the first time after a long while, Jisung felt the butterflies stir in his stomach again.

***

Minho felt like his arms were about to fall off. Maybe that’s what happens when you stir thick jam continuously for almost an hour to keep it from lumping.

His grandmother had a bountiful harvest of purple yams from her backyard. Jisung and him took it upon themselves to turn them into jam, not knowing how painstaking the entire process was. If it weren’t for the fact that at least it’s not his grandmother’s arms that are close to falling off, Minho would’ve probably regret their decision. 

“Let me take over. Take a rest for a bit, you look miserable,” Jisung nudged him as he reached for the ladle.

Minho didn’t put up a fight because he really needed to give his arms a break. He sat on one of the kitchen stools and instantly zoned out.

Three weeks have passed since the start of their summer vacation, and they only have about a week left before they need to go back home. Almost every day has been hectic and filled with so many chores. 

It baffled Minho how there are so many things to do at his grandma’s house and how she managed to get all of them done if they or Hyunjin weren’t there to help. His grandmother is truly an amazing woman.

Despite the tiredness he felt every day, there was also a feeling of fulfilment. Minho’s never been a fan of doing housework, so he didn’t know that there’s a sense of calmness to be had from washing dishes or simply sweeping the floor. He could only hope that Jisung felt like that as well.

There were also downtimes, where they’d spend hours just lazing around at the porch to hear the chorus of cicadas while they’re immersed in reading a book or scrolling through their phones.

At times like those, the summer breeze would lull Jisung to sleep, making him drop whatever he was holding, creating a loud thump against the wooden floor that would alert Minho that he’s snoozing. Minho would just sit there quietly, continuing what he’s doing while waiting for the younger to wake up, sometimes shading him from the glare of the sunlight as the setting sun passes by. It almost becomes a routine, and he’s oftentimes reminded of the routines they had back when they were together.

“Do you want to do something different today, after we finish this?” Jisung’s voice pulled Minho from his thoughts. 

He must’ve been so bored if it’s come to the point that he’s actually asking him to go out and do something different.  _ This is not a date, _ he reminded himself.

“Are you bored?” He asked out of curiosity.

“Not really. I just wanted to hang out.”

_ Oh.  _ “Oh, sure, what do you want to do?”

Jisung shrugged. “Actually, I don’t know. What is there to do in this town?”

Minho racked his brain for something, but he came up with none. This town is unfortunately a bit boring, unless you count harvesting produce as an entertaining pastime.

“Hmm, there’s the movies, or we could go to the museum. I guess those are pretty much the options we have in this town.”

Jisung grimaced at their limited choices before he suddenly lightened up. “How about we go camping?”

“Camping?” Minho was stumped by Jisung’s suggestion. “There are no camping sites here though.”

“Then we can just do it in the backyard,” Jisung sent him an excited smile, and Minho does not have the heart to turn him down and dampen his spirit when he’s smiling so widely like that. 

Maybe it’s not such a bad idea. His grandmother’s lot definitely has ample space at the back where they could set up the camping stuff and still have space to roll around in the grass if they wanted. Grandma, Hyunjin and even his aunt and uncle could also join if Jisung wanted to invite them. They’ve been wanting to do a get-together before the two of them leave anyway.

“Do you want to invite Hyunjin and grandma?” He asked.

“Yeah I do, that sounds fun.” Jisung said as he turned off the fire on the stovetop, their jam finally finished. “It would be more comfortable for grandma too. If she gets tired or uncomfortable, we can just go back to the house anytime.”

Minho nodded, already deep in thought as mentally listed the things they would need for the night. 

When they told his grandmother about their idea, she was bubbling with excitement and happiness. It’s been a long time since they all got together and she missed having her family over. It’s too bad that Minho’s parents weren’t there as well, but they promised to do a video call throughout the whole thing later.

The better part of the afternoon was spent preparing for the night. Hyunjin arrived with his parents just before the sunset, bearing the fresh veggies and marinated meat that his uncle loves to grill every get-together. His grandmother and aunt made side dishes, drinks, and snacks.

Jisung and Minho were tasked to set up the backyard. They dug up the dusty strings of lights that they used last Christmas and hung it around the clothes wire that spans the area. The chairs from the kitchen were relocated to the middle of the backyard and arranged in a circle around a small table filled with an assortment of snacks. Lamps were scattered around the place to provide more lightning.

While digging through his grandma’s storage boxes, Minho unearthed an old acoustic guitar. His grandmother used to play it back when he was a kid. He struck some of the strings, not really knowing how to check if it’s still working because he didn’t know how to play it himself.

“What’s that?” Jisung came up behind him to peek at the source of the sound.

“Oh, it’s grandma’s guitar.” Minho said, trying not to face Jisung because there’s too little space between them.

“I’ve been learning how to play guitar these past few months. Let me try, though I only know the basics.” Jisung said as he reached for the instrument.

Minho watched in awe as Jisung sat on a nearby desk, propped the guitar on his knees, and started fiddling with the pegs as he hummed out a tune. Minho had always known that Jisung has a beautiful voice. He’s always encouraged him to sing more because the world needs to hear it more. 

But this? Jisung singing while playing a guitar? This was a whole nother level of devastation that he doesn’t think his heart can survive. A moment later, the melodious note of the chords filled the room, followed by Jisung’s honey-like voice.

_ “Nothing hurts more than not caring _ _  
_ _ Time like black and white _ _  
_ _ Knowing nothing about the future _ _  
_ _ I've been wondering, and waiting for you _ _  
_ _ In completely filled dream with you in it” _

Jisung sang the last line looking directly into his eyes. Minho felt like he could see right through his emotions and his soul. He was rooted to the spot, captivated and speechless, as the words and the melodies carried their way to him, buried their way into his heart, and traveled throughout his veins to spread a warm, tingling sensation all over his body. 

He probably looked dumb, with his mouth agape and eyes comically wide, but he no longer cares. 

He was falling back into love real fast.

Well, no, that was wrong. He realized he never really fell out of love with Jisung. Even when their relationship took a break, even when they were apart, he never stopped loving him. 

The feelings were just there, tucked away at the corner of his heart, waiting for the moment to resurface. And if that moment hadn’t come like it did today, those feelings would simply remain tucked in that little corner, leaving a space in his heart for Jisung and becoming a part of who Minho is.

But as it is, the feelings he first thought were gone are now making themselves known. So, no he’s not really falling back into love. Instead, he’s falling deeper into it.

His body acted solely upon his emotions. Before he could even think of what he’s doing, he had taken slow, steady steps towards Jisung, giving him ample time to leave if he wanted to. But instead of running, Jisung stayed perched on the desk and waited for him, holding eye contact, seemingly just as enraptured by the situation as Minho was.

Minho placed his hands on either side of Jisung and leaned on them, ignoring how the edge digs into his palms. With Jisung caged in between his arms, he could see every little detail of him more clearly, details that he’s already traced and committed to memory a hundred times before.

He brought his face a little closer, leaving a hair’s breadth of distance between their lips.

“Can I kiss you?” Minho asked, his voice slightly trembling.

Jisung gulped, his eyes stealing a quick glance at Minho’s lips, before he nodded jerkily, the motion bringing their faces even painfully closer.

And finally, just as he’d imagined a thousand times over the last months, Minho brought their lips together. 

They kissed slowly at first, reminding themselves of how each other’s lips felt. Jisung’s lips were as plump as he remembered, with the faint taste of the cherry lip balm that he’s been using since middle school. Their lips parted and met again at a familiar rhythm.

He cupped the back of Jisung’s neck, stroking his sensitive skin there and pulling his hair in the way he knows the younger likes. Jisung let out a small sigh accompanied by a faint whine. The sound stirred the giddiness building up in Minho’s stomach, making him greedy. He angled their head better and deepened the kiss, licking Jisung’s lower lips to ask for access.

Jisung parted his lips, another quiet moan escaping the back of his throat. His hands clutched Minho’s shirt tightly and pulled him closer, bringing their bodies flush against each other.

It’s been so long since they’ve done this. They both longed for this so much, and it showed in the way the way their tongues danced against each other, the way they hungrily met each other’s lips, the way their hands rediscovered each other’s body, the way their bodies kept pressing together, as if the nonexistent space between them is still not close enough.

Before Minho lost all of his self-control, he pulled away from Jisung, planting one last chaste peck on his lips, then another, and another, to cap off their kiss.

Jisung averted his gaze and cleared his throat. “Uhm, I think the guitar’s working fine.”

Minho chuckled shakily in an attempt to calm the pounding of his heart and the heat in his stomach. “Yeah, I noticed.”

There was an awkward air between them. Not the bad kind of awkwardness, but rather a weird, heart-fluttering one. The kind you get when you just kissed your first love. They were each other’s first love, but that kiss is just one of hundreds they’ve shared.

“C’mon, we should go down. They must be waiting for us.” Jisung tapped on Minho’s wrist to signal him to lift his hand so he could slide down from the desk. 

Minho stepped back to put a little distance between them. That’s when he saw how the few minutes of making out made Jisung looked thoroughly wrecked. His lips were swollen and slicked with saliva, and his hair was sticking out in different directions, especially at the back.

Minho looked down on his clothes and saw that it’s are now wrinkled. It’s not the kind of wrinkle that clothes get when you don’t iron them. The way his shirt is bunched up at the sides made it pretty obvious that they were gripped hard by two hands.

“Uhm, I think we should compose ourselves first.”

That seemed to make Jisung conscious of his state. His ears and cheeks flushed even redder. He hummed in agreement, picking up the lamps that they were supposed to bring down, before stepping out of the room and into the hallway.

Minho took his time to calm the turmoil inside him. He waited for the sound of Jisung entering the bathroom before he went out of the storage room and padded down the hallway to his bedroom. 

Inside, he took deep breaths to try and calm his heart that seemed to be doing somersaults in his chest. Once he’s a little calmer, he changed into a fresh shirt and went out of his room, at the same time Jisung was stepping out of the bathroom, all freshened up even though his lips still looked a little raw.

“Uhh, I’ll go first?” Jisung asked when they met by the stairs.

“Yeah, I’ll come down in a minute.” Minho watched as the younger went down and disappeared from his view. He splashed water on his face in the bathroom to get his mind to wake up and get back on track. 

It wasn’t that effective, because little clips from their moment earlier still kept coming back to him. The feeling of relief he felt when he held Jisung again, the overwhelming feeling of his lips, his hands, and his entire body.

Minho sighed in frustration. He was supposed to be calming himself, but his thoughts only kept riling him up. Before he got even more flustered, he decided to join the others, bringing a few more lamps and the guitar with him. He made a mental note to ask his grandmother to play it for them later, just like she did when he and his cousin were kids.

***

It’s been almost an hour since Jisung rejoined Minho’s family in the backyard, and definitely more than an hour since they kissed and the butterflies inside him started thrashing about in his stomach. 

He didn’t bother chasing the butterflies away, and instead revelled in the feeling.

He missed those butterflies.

When Jisung told Minho that he was becoming tired of their relationship, he wasn’t only thinking about the frustrating fight-then-make-up routine they had. A part of him was also bothered by the lack of fluttery feelings he used to have whenever the older was near.

At the start of their relationship, just the sight of Minho was enough to make Jisung’s heart beat faster. That all ebbed until one day, he realized that the butterflies were no longer there.

It didn’t help that they were also fighting more and more as time passed by. The feeling scared him. Did it mean their relationship was over? Are they falling out of love? Will he lose his best friend?

So he tried to fix things the way he thought best without even considering what the older felt, all the while questioning their feelings. He thought he was doing their relationship a favor, he thought he was the only one doing his best, and that’s why he eventually felt like he'd had enough. 

He was so stupid and selfish, and he realized that now.

His eyes wandered to Minho, who was seated next to him, holding a similar mug that Jisung has in his hands, filled with hot cocoa. The older was staring at his grandmother, a loving smile stretching his lips and a fond look filling his eyes.

“Did you know that your father was the one who taught me how to play guitar?” Minho’s grandmother asked his aunt. “I asked him to teach me because I wanted to play it to you and your brother when I sing you to sleep.” She thumbed the strings carefully, trying to remember the chords. “The lullaby I sang to you was also the lullaby my mother sang to me.”

A few moments later, her shaky but clear voice echoed throughout the backyard as she sang the lullaby she used to sing to her children and later on to her grandchildren. 

_ “Those good old days, I pray won't fade _ _  
_ _ When I was young and in Mother's care _ _  
_ _ Oh, to hear dear Mother's lullaby again _ _  
_ _ The song of love as she rocked my cradle.” _

A feeling of warmth and comfort washed over Jisung at the sound of her voice.

_ “In my deep and peaceful slumber _ _  
_ _ The stars watch over me in vigil _ __  
_ Life was like heaven in the arms of Mother _ _  
_ __ Now my heart longs for the lulling cradle.”

Love. Their grandmother’s love floated around them as she sang. She may not be his grandmother by blood, but he felt it nonetheless.

He looked around their circle and saw that Minho’s aunt was approaching her mother to wrap her in a warm hug, her eyes brimming with tears as she mumbled about how much she missed hearing that song. Hyunjin was subtly wiping tears in his eyes, with his dad rubbing his arms comfortingly.

Jisung felt a hand hold his own. He looked to his side and saw that Minho was smiling at him softly. He returned it as he entwined their fingers together and gave the older’s hand a reassuring squeeze.

There was so much deep-rooted love in this little bubble they had, secluded from the busy lives they live even for just a moment. So much care and comfort surrounded them, and it felt like, because of that, everything will be alright in the end no matter what.

Jisung realized that he was familiar with those emotions because he felt it with Minho too, before the fights and before they looked at only the bad things.

And in that moment, he knew that despite the shortcomings they both had in their relationship, the butterflies didn’t really leave.

Maybe for some people, the nerve-wracking, fluttery feelings never go away  — and that’s precious and beautiful.

But for other people, the butterflies do not flutter forever. Instead, they settle down in time, and in place of the queasy giddiness they bring is the sense of calmness, warmth, and security.

That’s not to say that the excitement is all gone  — it’s still there from time to time. They’re just past the stage of feeling like their body is on fire and their heart is about to leap out from their chest. 

Instead, their heart beats steadier. And just breathing the same air within the same space as the person they love is enough to carry them towards comfort.

That doesn’t make their love any less precious. Because that kind of love is real and beautiful in it’s own way, and Jisung is only realizing that now.

***

Once all the snacks had been eaten and the drinks were all gone, they retired to their own tents after bidding each other good night. There were only four - Minho’s aunt and uncle share one, the other one is for their grandmother. Jisung would’ve slept in the third one on his own had Hyunjin not whined about how he didn’t want to sleep with anyone and basically hogged the entire tent, leaving Minho and Jisung to share the last remaining one.

“Are you sure you’re okay sleeping here?” He asked the younger for the third time that night.

Jisung chuckled at him. “I already told you I’m comfortable sleeping here.” He said as he patted down the blankets around him. “Or is this you trying to ask me if I’m okay sleeping beside you?”

Jisung was, in fact, correct. And Minho thanked the heavens that their tent was dim because he’s sure that his cheeks must be flaring red from embarrassment right now.

“I’ve slept beside you so many times, so this is okay.” Jisung added with a little shrug.

“Oh… yeah. Sorry for making a fuss.”

“Not that I’m any less nervous or anything, but yeah anyway, good night.” Jisung rambled in a small voice before turning to his side and facing away from the older.

Minho didn’t know what to say. He didn’t even know if he heard Jisung correctly. “Good night, Jisungie.” He said softly after a moment of dumbfounded silence.

But sleep didn’t come easily to either of them.

Minho was lying wide awake, staring at the tent roof above them for about half an hour, when he heard the shuffling of sheets beside him.

“Minho, are you sleeping?” Jisung’s voice suddenly felt like it was too close to his ear.

He turned towards Jisung as well. It was dim, but he could see that the younger was staring back at him. “No. Are  _ you _ sleeping?”

“No.”

Minho hummed in response and waited for Jisung to say something else. His hands were itching to reach out to him.

Just when he thought that Jisung had fallen asleep, his soft voice filled the space again. “Have I ever told you that I appreciate the way you reach for me when we’re sleeping next to each other?”

“I didn’t know that I did that,” he said. “But I do remember that you sometimes scoot closer to me while sleeping so you can snuggle.” 

Jisung chuckled softly. “Yeah, I didn’t know that I did that either.”

Minho thought over their words. Would he reach for Jisung tonight? Would he try to hold him in his arms unconsciously? Would Jisung scoot closer to him because that’s what their bodies have been used to?

“I missed this, lying next to you.” He confessed in a whisper, his heart starting to drum in his chest. “I missed your warmth and how it just felt right when I held you.”

“Me too.” Jisung replied, his voice just as soft and low as Minho’s, as if they were both afraid to break this moment with just a change in their pitch, to lose this fragile chance to go back to the way they were. “I missed this too. I missed you.”

Minho’s breath stuttered as his heartbeat raced. He stared at Jisung, as much as the dimly lit tent allowed. The words were suspended in the air, just waiting for Minho to grasp at them. And that he did.

“Is it okay if I hold you?”

Jisung nodded, almost shyly. Minho reached out and wrapped an arm around his waist. 

“Come here,” he mumbled as he gently pulled him closer.

With only a few inches between their bodies, Minho could feel Jisung’s every movement, smell his favorite cologne and hear his breathing. He expected to be a little awkward doing this again. But to his surprise, it’s not. It just felt like the way it did before they broke up. 

He closed his eyes and felt warmth, love, and care.

“Minho?” Jisung softly said after a while. Minho hummed in response and met his eyes. “Do you- do you want to give us another chance?” 

Minho’s breath caught in his throat. He searched Jisung’s eyes for any indication that he’s not sure about this, but he only found honesty and vulnerability. 

And finally, the realization that Jisung wanted to be with him again sank into his brain. He huffed a disbelieving breath, his lips stretching into a bewildered smile. 

“Yes,” he breathed out. “Of course I do, Jisungie. I never stopped loving you, you know?”

“Yeah, me too.” Jisung tilted his head upwards a little and brought their faces close. “I still love you.”

Minho closed the gap between them and took Jisung’s lips in his. Unlike earlier, the kiss they shared this time was more tender, filled with longing and emotions left unsaid. Minho felt lighter than he’s ever had in months. He was intoxicated, overwhelmed, and still stunned that this was actually happening.

And in between the kisses and embrace that they shared that night were words of reassurances - that they’ll do better this time for each other, that they’ll grow together and get through problems as a team. While they didn’t have anything to prove those promises, they had trust in each other and that was enough.

When everything has been said and their whispered conversation has died down to a comfortable silence, Jisung snuggled deeper into Minho’s arms, and the latter kissed the crown of his head and held him tighter. The only sound between them was the soft hum of each other’s breathing as they drowsily drifted into sleep.

Later that night, in the wee hours of the morning, Minho stirred at the feeling of Jisung curling up against his chest. He saw through cracked eyes that the purple colors of dawn were just breaking into the sky, lighting up their tent a little better.

He looked at the person he held in his arms and hugged him tighter, inhaling his scent - citrus mixed with the crisp morning air. Smiling to himself, Minho briefly thought  _ “I’ll never get enough of this.”  _ before drifting back into sleep.

*** 

“Thank you,” Jisung said as he and Minho walked hand in hand to the bus station. 

Their summer vacation has come to an end. Only a few days left before the start of another semester, and it was time to go back to their homes. Just a few minutes ago, Minho’s grandmother had tears in her eyes as she saw them off. It made Minho’s heart ache to see her so sad, so they promised that they’d go back whenever they can. 

Her entire face had lit up earlier when she saw them holding hands. “I love you, both of you.” She had said as she wrapped her arms around them.

Minho looked at Jisung and saw that he now has a fond smile on his face. Tied on his waist is the sweater Minho’s grandmother made, its fabric swinging lightly between them. 

“What are you thanking me for?”

“Thank you for bringing me back here. It made me realize a lot of things.”

“Mhm? Like what?”

“Like how this-” Jisung gave their entwined hand a little squeeze. “-feels like home.”

Minho looked down at their hands before stopping on the sidewalk. Realizing that he stopped walking, Jisung stood there as well and turned to him with a questioning look. Minho met Jisung’s eyes, his mouth stretching into a smile that’s just as loving as the smile on the younger’s lips.

“You’re right. This is home.” He stepped closer to Jisung and cupped his cheeks, gently stroking the smooth skin that's slowly dusting pink right next to his ear. 

“You are my home.” Minho bent down to place the tenderest kiss on Jisung’s lips.

“And I will never let you go again.”

_ -end _

**Author's Note:**

> ♡ If you've made it this far, thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed this story! Comments and kudos are always appreciated! <3    
>  ♡ The lyrics I used here are Eng trans of real songs: [Jisung's song](https://open.spotify.com/track/4KL3FJYexPrPuMdPagHPXp?si=roawIOLmTB-OFfrdNwt9Cg) and [Grandma's lullaby](https://open.spotify.com/track/02zFarr7kA8lEYr6jG1ShM?si=Mb9etj7FTBaMcsaoLvE8QQ)   
>  ♡ Story time! I almost didn't finish writing this. I started this AU last April, as I wanted to write my grandmother's character. But on July, she tested positive for covid. I was so heartbroken that I couldn't write this without bawling my eyes out. Thankfully, she's fully recovered now. She's a strong woman and I'm so proud of her.    
>  ♡ Anyway, let's be friends on [twitter!](https://twitter.com/konstay0629)


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